I Should Be Dead

I guess that pretty much goes without saying.  I spent 27 years drinking and 23 of those years drinking and driving.  But in my last 8 months or so of drinking, I could tell my body was shutting down on me.  I no longer even liked the taste of beer or alcohol.  I only drank it because that is what I knew...that is how I escaped from my problems.  That was how I lived.

I remember several friends and I were at Wurstfest.  After a couple of pitchers of beer, I broke down crying.  I couldn’t hold back any longer.  I felt like shit.  I looked like shit.  And I knew if I didn’t quit soon, I would be dead.  End of story.  At the same time, I did not know how to cope without alcohol.  My coping skills had stopped developing right about the time I started drinking.  In a sense, I skipped those years of my life.  So, my lack of coping skills carried me through another five months before I actually quit. 

Those months were horrible.  I was drinking from sun up until sun down and would get up in the middle of the night to drink more.  I kept count of beers left in the fridge so that I would have enough for over-night drinking as well as a six pack for the morning hours.  If I didn’t have the correct amount, I would make late night beer runs to get another 18 pack or case.   

I never slept more than a few hours a night and when I did sleep, I had horrible nightmares.  I also had anxiety issues when it came to simple things like showering and leaving the house.  My anxiety attacks got so bad that more than once I thought I wasn’t going to live to see the next morning...or the next five minutes for that matter. 

After work, on the days that I made it to work, I would make a mad dash over to the liquor store next door to get a cold six pack of 16oz beers.  It would make me physically ill to go into the store as well as slamming the first one to get my buzz back.  I was always forced to eat something with a lot of flavor to get the first one down.  But once that buzz came back, all was back to “normal”. 

I was becoming a recluse of sorts due to my drinking.  I couldn’t go anywhere without being drunk.  And if I was the least bit sober, I would get physically ill.  There were many times that I would be at my favorite bar/restaurant, order something, and then not be able to eat it.  At this point, I was starting to get bad stomach cramps that would hit me out of the blue...but became more frequent as the days went on.  So in my infinite wisdom, I decided that food was no longer a necessity as long as I had beer or a bottle of vodka.  It was the same wisdom that led me to believe that drinking all night and day was “normal”.  Any and all rational thinking at this point was drowning in alcohol. 

pretty much sums it up!

 

Supply and Demand

In order to get a perspective of my life as a drunk, it is important to understand the quantity of alcohol I consumed throughout my life as well as how it increased dramatically over the years.  As a kid 11 years of age, when I was first introduced to the ultimate hideout from  all problems, I would drink one to two wine coolers.  It was typically on the weekend when my mom and I were chilling at home.  It became such a wonderful and desirable feeling to me that I would occasionally sneak to the pantry for one during the week.  This was usually due to a fight between my parents, getting into trouble, or some other undesirable that I wished to hide from.  By the time I was in high school, I had freedom in the form of a Pontiac Grand-Am, my first vehicle.  My alcohol consumption by this time, and you are only looking at a four year difference, had increased to one 750ml bottle of vodka during the week and one for the weekend.  I also picked up smoking consistently during this time period, Marlboro 100’s in the soft pack. 

When I first started drinking, the wine coolers were purchased by my mom.  But as I increased my consumption, I had to hide my purchases.  So where did the money come from?  I was given a weekly allowance and gas money like a lot of kids, but my drinking typically exceeded the money I was given for the week.  There were times when I would do extra chores for five bucks a pop, but on numerous occasions, I would “borrow” twenty to forty bucks from my mom’s stash.  She used to keep a large sum of money in a white envelope on the right side of the second dresser drawer.  My mom did not keep track of her allowance thus providing me with plenty of opportunity to collect drinking funds.

During high school, partying in the form of drinking happened just about every weekend.  So, the consumption of alcohol also increased.  The bottles of vodka got bigger and I began incorporating bottles of cinnamon schnapps.  The cinnamon flavor replaced the gum cover-up and you could keep your buzz.  Awesome!  Summer time meant pool parties and gallon, yes gallon, daiquiris…with extra shots of course.  And while purchasing the gallon size beverage, why not have some cherry bombs while you wait…or jello shots.  Daiquiri Express, or the round building as we called it, became a primary location for obtaining anything buzz worthy.  The generic styrofoam containers that held the smaller daiquiris could pose as a soda from almost any joint in town.  Needless to say, they accompanied me to school on occasion and even sports trips.  I know what you are thinking, how did you get around the drinking age and being ID’ed.  In Louisiana, the legal drinking age was 18.  So as long as you had someone in your group that was of age, anything could be purchased.  It also helped that when you became a regular at certain places, they no longer asked for identification.  This included bars, liquor stores, and of course the round building. 

By the time I was “of age”, I was already known at most places around town.  I had one bar that I would frequent for happy hour that included $1 and some change screwdrivers.  Another bar had the best long island ice tea in town and when craving something sweet and mild, an amaretto sour would do the trick.  This place also had plastic cups that you could take home.  I had such a large collection in the back seat of my car, I had to start throwing them away.  Its just like leaving a festival with a stack of cups, except these were of the sixteen ounce variety. 

So basically, by the time I finished high school I was drunk pretty much all the time.  I was stealing money from home to cover my purchases.  Driving drunk was an art and acting completely  sober in front of people was a profession.  I had already become a high functioning alcoholic.